Lacrimosa
by SiningStar
Summary: A few miserable moments in Milo's miserable life. - Angst, slight shonen-ai, A.U.


_**Disclaimer: **_Saint Seiya does not belong to me! I only own this story!

_**Warning:**_ Shonen-ai, Angst!

_**Enjoy ^^**_

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_**"Lacrimosa"**_

Milo arrived home with a tired look on his face and his suit disheveled, his tie slightly untied. He closed the door, dropped the suitcase onto the ground and left keys on a hook drilled into the door. He sighed loudly and walked further into his home, sitting on the couch. His drained muscles screamed in comfort as they hit the soft pillows with a muffled 'oof' and the blonde man was finally able to think 'peace'.

He laid back against the couch slowly and he sat there for a few moments, just looking at the ceiling, with no important or coherent thoughts running through his head. Life seemed so simple then, just staring at a white wall was easy... Nothing mattered. Well, one thing did. That guy did. The man who was, is and always would be unattainable. He closed his eyes, trying hard to maintain that angel out of his head, the happiness he searched for unreachable.

He remembered the painful memories, everything coming back to him like an old movie.

He actually didn't know what had attracted him in the first place: had it been the long, rouge locks swinging in the breeze? Or maybe that icy, arrogant, proud, but never unwavering stare his friend always held? If someone had asked him, he'd answer he didn't know, which was true. He also had no idea when the mere thought of having that person near him was enough to send his heart flying high, when his presence lit up even the darkest of rooms, when his rare but kind and sincere smiles made Milo feel like he could die with no regrets.

His beloved had never been an easy man to get around or socialize with, therefore, when Camus said Milo was his best friend, the blond man considered it a victory.

The time passed and they were no longer teenagers. Milo saw Camus become more beautiful and strong with time, the love he felt grew quickly and nothing was able to 'kill' it. When he finally gathered the courage to tell his friend about his feelings, something else would snatch Camus away, like the foam of the sea. His luck had never been especially good to him, he didn't think it strange that somewhere someone might have enjoyed his misery.

He sighed again and raised his hands to his face, covering it. The ceiling didn't seem nice to look at anymore, it wasn't _him_.

All his life he had seen Camus fall in and out of love, never with him of course, and it had hurt. A lot. When he first saw Camus kissing someone, his chest had tightened so much in pain, he ran as fast as he could to the nearest bathroom and vomited. He cried and vomited and when he was finally able to stop, the simple memory of the kiss was enough to make his stomach twist. When Camus told him he was dating Natasha, Milo gave him a smile and congratulations, while rotting away on the inside. He forced his eyes to shine when they didn't, he obliged his heart to beat when it didn't have the strength to.

Sometimes, he wished he had never fallen in love with Camus. Occasionally he contemplated the possibility of never meeting that lovely angel and the thought pleased him to some extent.

And now the wedding... Not with Natasha, with someone else. Milo had never really remembered anything important about the damned woman, the woman who stole his beloved's heart, even though Camus blabbered about her non-stop.

Milo laughed at how pathetic he was, loving someone who was going to marry, live a happy life, have kids... Milo laughed so hard, tears started to escape his eyes. He continued to laugh away, convincing himself he was crying due to laughter.

But then he stopped laughing and the tears kept on going. His sobs were the only thing he could hear in his empty apartment and he cried and cried, cried like a frightened four year old. He cried for his dead heart, his unreturned feelings, his overall misery. How could he not cry? It was there, in plain sight, with a big poster and shiny, bold letters for everyone to see. How was he supposed to look and not see?

After an hour, the small drops ceased and he got up. He went to the bathroom, took a relaxing, hot bath, brushed his teeth and went to bed. He didn't want to eat, his stomach didn't allow him. Nonetheless, he knew he had to go to bed early. He needed strength for the following day, he had to be the perfect best-man on the worst day of his life.

_**Fin**_

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_**Crazy Corner**_

Well, what did you think? First time trying an angst that actually ends up badly, I'm not fit for this XD. Although it is interesting to write. So, what did you think :D? Please review ^^! Poor Milo, I feel bad for him XDDD

~SiningStar


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